Morning journal and courier., 1887-11-11

not been attacked before. Mr.. Grinnell said
that all of the records in the case and even
the death warrant were in the hands of the
sheriff and in his opinion the application for
writ of habeas corpus was absurd. Mr..
Solomon maintained that Parsons is held
under two writs, one from the lower court
and one from the Supreme court. He did
not claim that Parsons should be liberated,
but that he should be discharged from Gus
tody under the second writ-the one under
which his execution is ordered-until a cor
rect and proper writ is issued During Mr.
Sa1omon's argument Captain Black came
into court and looked over the authorities
quoted by the other attorney. One of Mr..
Salomon's main points was that the Illinois
Supreme court Ehould have returned the case
to the lower court where the sentence should
have again been pronounced. The neglect
to do this, he argued, was a fatal error. The
writ was refused by Judge Tuley.
LOUIS Limoges TRAGIC END.
The Desperate Bomb Maker Blows
the GTaIl0ws-A Bloody Scene In the
Condemned Mans Cell.
CHICAGO, Nov. 10.-The stalwart guard at
Louis Lingg's cell door had turned his
back to the bars but moment this morning
when there was muf1ed report and puff
of blue smoked passes over his shoulder from
the dark recess behind. Then ensued wild
rush of deputies, the changing of iron gates
and above the confusion and din the hoarse
shouting of the guard, 'It's Linggl" TITS
Lingg!" "That came from Linggl" With
rapid movement a turnkey flung the cell
door open and with an eager peer into the
shadows two excited deputies jumped pell
nell in. Their CALCULATIONS of horror brought
the other guards quickly within the CELL An
age CT agony and surprise was passed by
the Jail inmates in the cells above
and around. There was a shutting of feet
on the floor and then the hundreds of strain
ed eyes watching down through the iron net
ting and bars saw group of guards in shirt
sleeves struggling across the dimly lighted
area bearing by the legs and arms the body
of man between them. The upturned face
was huge clot of blood, but the turnkey
who supported the head had his fingers
wound tightly in the unmistakable brown
curling ringlets of the bomb maker, Louis
Lingg. The big key of Jailer Folz grating in
the main lock interrupted for moment the
sound of pattering blood on the white stone
pavement. There was creaking of rusty
hinges and the Anarchists and common jail
birds had gazed their last on Lingg. A few
steps brought the huddled up cortege to the
bathroom of the Jail, a stuffy little apart
ment scarcely ten feet square. Lingg was
dumped on the floor with scant tenderness by
the men who have been daily half expecting
to meet their death at his hands. To all ap-
pearances the Anarchist was stark dead.
His little, athletic form was clothed only in a
short tunic and the brawny limbs seemed
rigid. The entire lower half of the once
handsome face was gone, including the up
per lip and jaw and the under fraction of
the nose. Where it had been was now a
jagged bloody gap extending across to the
ears and down to the Adams apple. "Open
your eyes, Lingg," exclaimed the Jail doctor,
who had just reached the room. To the as
constituent of the bystanders Lingg's eyes
opened and looked calmly about him. He
was Immediately raised to a table and, prop
ped up with pillow, was washed hurriedly.
White cloth bandages were passed around
the lower part of the face and around the top
of the head, hiding all but the nose,
eyes and forehead aa all all loose, dangling
The gutta percha mouth of fountain sy-
ringe was inserted with doctors finger into
the great hole left by the dynamite. By this
method water and brandy were administered.
This was repeated at intervals, Lingg mean
while gazing steadfastly about him watching
every move of those in the room, but appar-
emily Indifferent to what they did and caring
nothing about the almost eeaseleRs slalnming
of the door only few feet distant. Every
now and then, without seeming cause, a
fearful hollow groaning would sound
through the bandages. The listeners aghast
would abandon the room only to give place
to a new set not yet weakened by the horrors
within the death chamber. Lingg moved his
long sinewy right arm easily-his left hand
was torn by the dynamite without
trouble wrote in German simple directions
as to raising him higher Or the like. Beyond
a glance of recognition to Captain Black, who
came into the room for moment and said,
''Poor, poor fellow" there was nothing to
break the horrible agony of the six mortal
hours wait for deaths approach. Rev. DIR.
Bolton, a Methodist minister attending
Fielder. went in, but got no answer from
Lingg. The minister came out shaking his
head. Lingg's breathing gradually became
slower, the pallor on the forehead
deepened. A slight glaze was noticed |
in the now sunken eyes. Some one
said, "He is dying" and the
made ready for rush to the near
est telephones. Lingg's big breast heaved
once and was still His eyes looked straight |
ahead with their old brightness, but at |
whisper from the doctor the reporters dashed |
to the telephones, falling one over another |
down the narrow stairway to the court yard |
in their efforts to tell the news first. While |
doctor raised Lingg's right arm. 1t fell back |
on the table limp. An attendant pushed the |
eyes shut. In moment the little room was |
empty of ali but the CHASTITY corpse of the |
bomb maker Louis Lingg.